Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Home is Where the Heart Is....

Last night I posted on my Facebook status update, "just got home to Rwanda.." Several people commented on the use of the word "home". At the moment it was written I had just stepped off a plane after flying 19 hours in a day and a half. However, I did not use the word "home" in a state of jet lag induced haze. I was home. I felt home. When the plane began its descent into Kigali and the wheels got closer to the ground a smile gradually eased across my face and I took a deep breath. Home is where your heart is.....right now, my heart lies in Rwanda.

This feeling is real, however, I also am cognizant of the effect my love of this life has on my previous "home". I do not say this to slight my friends, family and loved ones back home. Their love and support is priceless. It was so nice to see everyone this past month and to catch up on life in Vegas. I am forever grateful for the support system there. But being back in Las Vegas was difficult. I felt out of place, unsure of myself, some of the old feelings I had before I found my calling kept haunting me. Perhaps it is the place itself. I grew up in Kansas and I think I'm more a country girl at heart than I care to publicize.

This morning when I woke up the sun was shining and all the sounds of the birds, avocados falling off the trees hitting the roof, Rambo chopping wood were all so comforting. I walked outside and was greeted by Joseph, our day guard. He was so happy to see me and I him. I missed the quiet of the mornings. I do not hear cars and planes and do not have the "rush" of getting somewhere in the morning. My mornings here are so peaceful. But before I wax too nostalgic, I have been out of water since last night. For some strange reason, it just does not phase me anymore.

My heart is in Rwanda. I have tried to explain the feeling that comes over me from time to time since I first got here. I have this feeling of COMPLETE contentment with my path in life. That is not an easy thing to find. I know, I've searched decades for it. As I was going through the market today, buying vegetables, greeting my "preferred farmer girls", it came over me. I feel so comfortable so at peace among a throng of Rwandans selling their wares in an open market. I am the ONLY Muzungu in the place and I feel like I belong. It is completely unexplainable to most people.

A friend of mind said to me right before I left, "Kim, you are so fortunate. To be able to pursue your dream, your passion and have the ability to make it happen....most people never get that chance." He's right. I have found my passion, my place in life for now and I will not take it for granted. I am a blessed girl!

Now...I've got three containers of bikes to distribute and a lot of joy to spread to farmers. One bike will change their life....this one bike has changed mine.

Saturday, September 12, 2009

Remembering 9/11....the Day that Changed Us All

Can it really be eight years? Eight years since we all stood glued to the television shocked and awed by the events unfolding before our eyes; events we could have never imagined would ever happen on American soil.

September 11, 2001....

I remember listening to the radio and hearing that a plane had crashed into one of the towers of the world trade center. A friend of mine was the DJ on a local station that morning and my first thought was it's a joke, then I thought, "Who's the idiot who flew the Cessna into the World Trade Center?" Then....I turned on the TV.

I stood there watching for a few minutes trying to understand exactly what was happening. As I stood there I witnessed the second plane fly directly into the second tower. I was stunned, complete disbelief. Was this honestly happening or was I an observer in a very bad dream? The door bell walked a group of realtors ready to assess the value of my house. The house I had just put on the market after losing my multi million dollar business the week before. My thought was, did it really matter?

Eight years ago every thing changed.....for most of us..

The next eight years saw my sister deployed to Iraq and my brother in law deployed to Iraq and Afghanistan in the "War Against Terror". They are both facing deployments to Afghanistan in the next year. The events of that day continue for them and thousands of others in our military.

I lost my business and moved to Las Vegas....always feeling like I wasn't where I was supposed to be...doing what I was supposed to be doing.

Every year on the anniversary I watched the coverage of that day. Every year I was reminded how finite life was. I did not personally lose anyone......I feel for the people who did. I kept thinking I don't want to die without doing what I need to

Time sped by, moved to Las Vegas, started and lost another business and still questioned what I was doing with my life. I turned 40. Now I would change. Then I was 42 and nothing had changed. And then, last September as yet another 9/11 anniversary reminded me how quickly life can change, how quickly it can all be over I read the article about Project Rwanda in Outside Magazine.

Tonight as I watched the footage from eight year ago, I still cried. I cried for the people lost and the people who had lost loved ones. But this year, I cried knowing I now have no regrets. I cried, thankful I grew up in this country and appreciating all the amazing opportunities I have to do the things I do including living in another country.

The transition back into life in America has not been easy. There are so many things that have changed. Things that seemed so important no longer have that same draw. I like my simple life in Rwanda. I like knowing that every day for me "counts". I no longer waste time just getting by. I live every day with no holding back. It makes for some great highs and some spectacular lows. I find myself anxious to go back, missing Rwanda, the people and my life there.

However, I also like knowing that I'm an American, living in Rwanda. For that, I am thankful.